


You’re There For Everybody Else, and Now I am Here For You

by malecismyheartandsoul



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec loves Magnus, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, He has some mental health issues, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Magnus isn’t okay, Magnus loves Alec, Post 2x20, Sad bois, okay I’ll stop tagging now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 13:13:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13571283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malecismyheartandsoul/pseuds/malecismyheartandsoul
Summary: Magnus Bane was used to being the one that people needed, he was used to being the one that people went to when they had a crisis.He was used to being there for everybody who needed him. But he wasn’t used to having someone be there for him when he needed them.orMagnus is not okay, but he will be, because Alec helps him.





	You’re There For Everybody Else, and Now I am Here For You

Magnus Bane was used to being the one that people needed, he was used to being the one that people went to when they had a crisis.

He was used to late-night calls and early-morning knocks on his door. He was used to people expecting more from him that what he could give.

He was used to being there for everybody who needed him. But he wasn’t used to having someone be there for him when he needed them.

Four hundred years was a long time to live. It was years and years of falling in and out of love, of breaking and being broken, of crying and laughing, of feeling everything all at once, and feeling nothing at all.

Camille had been there for him, and he had thought that she was the one. He had thought that he’d ride off into the sunset with her and they’d be together forever and he’d never have to be alone again because death wasn’t capable of taking her away from him.

But then he saw her fangs filled with her venom, and her claws that dug deep into his skin, etching insecurities and doubts into his veins and making him wonder if he’d ever not be broken again.

And then came Alexander. And for a while, nothing else mattered. He couldn’t hear the taunts of Camille at the back of his head anymore, he couldn’t feel his stomach churn at the thought of his mother with a dagger shoved between her ribs, he couldn’t feel his skin itch and his fingers twitch at the memory of his step-father calling him and abomination.

He couldn’t feel any of that, only the warmth of having Alexander tucked beneath his arms, the soft feeling of kisses stolen between silk sheets and 5 am alarm sounds, the rough feeling of his five o’clock shadow rubbing against Magnus’s goatee.

Everything good felt amplified with him, and everything bad felt like it had never even existed.

But then the incident happened, and the wonderful white veil that drowned everything negative out seemed to be lifted, and Magnus was drowning again.

The agony rune had broken him down, piece by piece, pulling at his heart and tugging at his brain until all he could do was beg and plead and sob for it to stop.

He was supposed to be strong. Four hundred years should have taught him to not be weak, to withstand torture.

But it was like it was real, it had been like he was actually back in that small village in Indonesia, a scared boy with too much magic and too many feelings and a mother who had killed herself and a step-father that he had murdered.

And it had all become too much. Because even when he found his way back into his own skin and within control of his own body, it hadn’t felt like his own.

Because it had been taken from him. His body, the one thing that was truly his and his alone, had been taken from him and given to a man who hated his very existence.

And nothing could fix that. No amount of makeup, or dancing, or shy kisses from Alexander could help to make that stop. Because Alec didn’t understand, no matter how much he tried to, and how carefully he trod around Magnus in an attempt to help him, he would never understand.

And Magnus couldn’t explain.

And then that night had come, when Alec had held him, and made him feel like maybe he wasn’t broken, maybe he would be fine.

And then Alec had kept a secret from him that had the potential to destroy his entire race, and several others. And it was like every breath had been knocked out of him.

Because suddenly all he could feel was white hot rage and confusion because, damn it, Alec was supposed to be the good one. He wasn’t supposed to be like his parents, or the Clave, or every other shadowhunter who had ever disregarded downworlders as actual human beings.

Alec was special.

Alec removed his makeup when he was too tired to do it himself. Alec brought him breakfast when he knew hadn’t eaten and stopped him from drinking too much alcohol. Alec fed his cats and cleaned his loft and made sure there was always a fully stocked variety of tea in the cupboard, and a jar of coffee for him right next to it.

Alec wasn’t supposed to lie to him about something that big.

And suddenly he could feel it again, and he started to doubt everything. He could feel Camille’s words creeping into the folds of his brain, could hear his step-father’s cries as his skin melted before his eyes, could see every goddamn face that he had watched fade out of this life and into the next one, could feel his veins vibrate and his blood boil as every insecurity he had ever felt came back to the surface and laughed at him.

And it was awful.

And then everything had happened so fast, werewolves being kidnapped, demons pouring into New York, Queens betraying him and making alliances with the enemy, wild maniacs running wild through the forests of Idris, raising Angels and killing the love of his life’s parabatai.

So he didn’t have the time to dwell on his thoughts, so he chugged down a bottle of whiskey and pushed everything as far to the back of his mind as he could.

And then suddenly he wound up back in Alec’s arms and everything was supposed to be fine. And again, it was, for a while.

He was back in Alec’s arms, his head tucked into the little dip between his neck and his shoulder, Alec’s arm on the small of his back, tracing runes into the skin at the base of his spine.

He was back to stolen kisses between silk sheets and alarm clocks, and freshly brewed tea waiting for him in the kitchen, and little notes telling him when Alec would be back that night.

But he was cautious. He refused to believe that things were fine again. Because he still felt his skin itch and his eyes burn when he stopped thinking for a while and the veil started lifting again.

But it didn’t actually hit him until he stumbled across a book in his study. A book he had forgotten about, long lost in the archives of his many shelves. The book wasn’t anything special, an empty journal he had never wanted to ruin, but the engravings on the first page were.

_This is for when you get lost in that head of yours, and forget that you have people that care about you. But please don’t be mistaken, that person isn’t me, it’s Catarina, maybe you’ll listen to her advice for once.  
R.F_

And he didn’t know when the tears started falling and his hands started trembling, but somehow he had fallen to the floor and his body couldn’t stop shaking. He was sobbing, and he was clutching the book to his chest as if it was the only thing keeping him going.

And his hands wouldn’t stop itching, like ants were crawling across the inner walls of his skin, scratching and pulling until his veins pulsed and his blood moved to places where they shouldn’t.

And he doesn’t know how long he sat there, or maybe he was lying down, he couldn’t tell because the world kept spinning and he couldn’t tell which part of him was numb and which part of him wasn’t.

And that was how Alec found him, on the floor of his study, sobbing and trembling into his Persian carpet, the death grip he had on the book making his knuckles a paper white colour.

Alec rushed to him immediately, yelling out questions, trying to get him to calm down, to tell him what was wrong. But Magnus could barely hear him, like he was on the other side of the room even though he knew he was right there.

So Alec picked him up and carried him to the bathroom, dragging him under the shower and splashing cold water onto him. And finally, Magnus could breathe, he could see everything without it being too blurry for him to tell what it was. And he gasped, his sobs dying out, and his death grip moving to Alec’s shirt as he trembled.

And Alec held him the entire time, clutching him closer, letting him soak up his shirt and wrinkle his suit jacket.

And then Alec turned the water off, dragging Magnus to the closet and changing him into a comfortable pair of pajamas. He never left his side, pulling Magnus along with him to the kitchen and setting a mug filled with steaming tea right in front of him.

He didn’t say anything for a while, removing his blazer and sitting right next to Magnus, letting him lean on him and holding him as his body shook with aftershock.

And when Magnus finished his tea, he pulled him gently to the bed, removing his own shirt and pants before climbing into the bed and wrapping himself around Magnus, trying to act as a shield from whatever was hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus breathed out into the night, long after they had settled into the covers. Neither had fallen asleep, one too lost in his own thoughts and the other too lost in his concern.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do, I’m broken and you shouldn’t have to fix me,” Magnus had his back to him, turned away and tucked in on himself as if he was hiding, even though Alec was still entirely wrapped around him.

“You’re not broken, you’re hurt, and I’m here to help you, because that’s what you do when you love someone. And I love you, and I’m here for you,” Alec said, his hands tightening on Magnus’s middle.

Magnus didn’t say anything after that, and Alec wondered if he had finally fallen asleep. But his body was still trembling slightly and his breaths were still uneven.

So Alec turned him over, his eyes meeting with sad cat eyes, his glamour down.

This was Magnus’s most vulnerable state, his makeup free, glamour-less, emotionally exhausted state, and Alec was the only one privileged enough to be there to see it and to hold him.

“Magnus, what’s going on?”

“It’s too much,” Magnus said, shutting his eyes. “There’s too much.”

“Talk to me.”

“Tomorrow, please, I can’t, I-I can’t, please don’t make me, I c-can-“ Magnus struggled through his words, his eyes filling with tears again.

And Alec pulled him closer, holding him and swaying from side to side. “It’s okay, Magnus, we can talk tomorrow.”

And Magnus fell asleep while Alec laid awake, too scared that he’d wake up again and be alone if Alec was asleep. So he stayed up, tracing his features with his finger, and watching as tiny sighs escaped his lips.

And then the next day, they did talk. Alec asked questions and Magnus answered and Alec listened.

And then he held him.  
And he understood.  
And he told him that everything would be okay, because Alec wouldn’t let him get hurt again.

And Magnus wasn’t fully okay for weeks after that, because his hands would sometimes still tremble, or someone would say something and he’d feel his world shake.

But Alec helped him, just as Magnus helped everybody else.

And eventually, things started being okay again.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I’m Imaan. Sometimes I write things at 2 am and then I forgot about them for a while until I remember and post them on here. 
> 
> You can find me on:  
> IG: thedownworlds  
> Tumblr: malecismyheartandsoul  
> Twitter: mxlecsoul


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